Damned
by Elysa Padin
Summary: A murder set in the 1800's. Short Story


"We are the damaged goods of society Beatrice. The product of rotten apples. And from the day I drew my first breath I was damned… We are all damned. The human race is nothing, but tarnished beauty. Filth that is waiting for the slate to be wiped clean from a savior who does not and will not save." His yellow eyes pierced my beating heart. A heart that would soon beat no more.

"If we are all doomed to damnation then why would you save the condemned? If the human race were as terrible as you depict, why would you spare me?" I had to look into the eyes of Latricia's murderer and understand why'd he'd give his life to save someone so filthy as I. Why this once beautiful stately man would turn so ragged and cold was beyond my comprehension.

"You can't buy your way into heaven, Cervantes. Don't think that self sacrifice will allow your entrance into the heavenly gates. St Peter is not the ultimate judge of your character, but none shall pass without due right."

"Then none can and none will pass my dear," Cervantes smiled crookedly at me. "Come now foolish girl, if it had not been your sister's life would you give a backward glance to another death on the streets of London? And what of her promiscuous soul, Beatrice? Will she enter the pearly gates? Will you… after you have my heart, Beatrice?"

I did not like the way he said my name, it made my skin crawl and the hair on the back of my neck felt eerily disconnected from my scalp. I did not like the way this ruined man looked at me with the bloodlust of a murderer. And I especially, did not like the draft in this dark dank room in the gutters of London… alone here with this killer.

"My sister was a free spirit. She was…"

"A whore!" He shouted across the table. "A filthy tramp. She lifted her petticoats for any and every man that would pay. What was her motto? Oh, yes, once maybe twice will most certainly suffice!"

"She was nothing of the sort. I will not hear such obscenities… Not from you! Especially from you!" I stood as quickly as if I'd been scalded by burning water. To think this man's heart could be my own if I were to consent.

"You look like her, you know. Except she had golden locks and yours are a curled auburn. Almost like the crinkled leaves in autumn. But your not as plain as she. Your eyes have the mark of mystery, they're violet if I'm not mistaken… Beautiful travesty you are." Cervantes twiddled his shackled thumbs. His yellow eyes darted over my frame hungrily. I felt uncomfortable at best, dirty at worst.

"Say, wouldst you have a birthmark on your inner thigh? I believe you were of the same age were you not?"

"No, I do not, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stop looking at me as if I'm something to devour," I said through clenched teeth. "And my sister was three years my junior. You'd know that if you were serious about the betrothal."

"But Latricia was ever so delectable," he made it a point to lick his lips. I almost wished I'd thought better of my corset, now was not the time to look "delectable".

"Only a fool would settle in the midst of poverty. Though her dowry would have been nice, Latricia wasn't quite what I was looking for… I think the girl I looked for kept jasmine on her pillows, was three years Latricia's senior with violet eyes. Heads would roll if I could have that girl. I believe one already has."

"Scoundrel!" I snarled. "What cause have you for murdering an innocent? Did she not satisfy your needs? You compliment with such sincerity yet no remorse for what you've lost!"

"Oh she satisfied them fine, thank you, and wasn't so innocent from what I could tell. I appreciate your concern, dear, and frankly, I've lost nothing," another crooked smile and a wink.

"Then why?"

"Humanity has two basic needs to kill and to procreate. If we do not kill then we will have no room to better society and if we do not procreate then we will die. It is basic human necessity to stifle the urge to kill yet condone procreation… if you know what I mean." He winked at me, what filth. "Latricia would've been a good breeder, she was beautiful, easily broken, less tainted than you'd expect, but she lacked a certain quality for marriage… what's that thing that most respectful women have?"

"Why don't you just say she wasn't faithful… Why don't you just say…"

"She was a whore, love? Because I did say that and was scolded the first time. Right learned my lesson needn't touch the stove twice. Now, please sit down." Cervantes urged me with those pleading yellow eyes. Treacherous yellow eyes.

"What good has come out of killing her when you will rot in this prison? Why are you suddenly willing to do good for this family after you've wronged it so!"

"My heart still beats while yours will not. But it will beat within you…. I've done what every man has wanted to do but couldn't, taken something and made it his own, for good."

"How is she yours in death if you didn't want her in the first place?"

"Oh, Beatrice… I meant nothing of her. I spoke about you. You misunderstand me at your own expense."

Riddles, riddles and more riddles. It was already frowned upon that a woman was to take on a man's heart and it be the man that murdered her sister, now what of it being the man that murdered her sister, but has an eery lust for her as well? A lust that she just might reciprocate… Never! And what a dangerous operation it must be, she may as well die.

"Cervantes… I cannot say that I am flattered that you are willing to die for me. This will not replace Latricia. This will not erase all of your wrongs…. I can't save you, I couldn't save her, what am I to do!"

I wept in my hands, tears streaked down my cheeks and face. Water stains of repression.

I wondered if it was wrong to love a murderer. I wondered if I was really damned as he had said I was. Most of all I wondered, if it had been any other way would he have done this still. Would he have wanted a property claim on my body?

"An angel fallen in our midst… It's beautiful when you cry." He looked at me piteously. His sanity was much more limited than mine. I could feel teardrops clinging to my lashes and I looked up at him with a sorrowful smile.

"I suppose you deserve a proper explanation… I did it out of rage and out of spite. I did not love Latricia, but I did not want any other man to touch her either. I would've made your sister a very rich woman, all she would've had to do was be my queen and I would've pretended that she were you. She wasn't you though, and she never would've been."

"Why did you not ask for my hand, then? We hadn't any parents to object. Aunt Clara would've welcomed you with open arms."

"Because you were above me… You deserved a husband that was not vain, or full of spite, nor hate, I would've corrupted you instantly and most likely never taken a second glance at those lovely eyes ever again," Cervantes softened and his yellow eyes were tame. "I feel no remorse for her death because I've removed a stain from this Earth." And his eyes hardened yet again.

"If I take your heart and then I die during this operation, what is to become of our souls? Medicine is till regarded as unholy even now."

"We must wait until we are within the belly of the beast… Therein lies true salvation."

"And then?" I held onto his words with my very soul.

"We approach those heavenly gates and if rejection be our fate then we shall perish together. And if you shall live to tell the tale of the murderer you once loved, then remember his heart beats within your chest and it was always yours."

I gazed into those yellow eyes and felt a single tear trickle a pathway down my cheek. I did not long to touch him, I did not long to kiss him, I wanted to die with him. I felt a single ray of hope in this dark damp cellar in London. And the grimy once stately man that sat across me smiled with the ease of a soul set free.


End file.
